


i want to change (the world with you)

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Coulson thinks Daisy is amazing, Daisy being awesome and wanting justice for her people, F/M, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Kissing, Male-Female Friendship, Supportive Phil, dud boyfriends, mentions of past relationships - Freeform, relationships ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 18:32:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6295219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post 3x12.  Set in the near future.  Daisy sets out to change the world and Phil is there to help her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i want to change (the world with you)

#

“I heard what you did for Talbot. His family.”

“It’s nice to get a happy ending every once in awhile,” he says, with a slightly dreamy expression, then stifles a yawn.

She moves to set the cup of coffee down on the desk as he pushes the file underneath it out of the way to make room.

The papers have piled up around them, and they’re both very tired.

But after the disaster following the Inhuman symposium, she wants to get a statement out there before someone else decides to shape it on their behalf.

Malick has already painted a picture of what Phil is doing as HYDRA’s work, and he can’t keep sticking his neck out for them on his own like this.

He’s not even Inhuman, but she’d gladly have him on her side, no matter what she is now.

She leans against the edge of the table and takes a sip of coffee, watching him roll his shoulders in a stretch, then push the sleeves of his shirt up.

“At least you managed to sneak in with weapons after all.”

He frowns a little, the crease forming between his eyebrows, his left hand flexing involuntarily.  “Malick knew.  He made me take off the arm.  I guess Roz told him.”

Then he purses his mouth and looks at the files, rolling his sleeves back down smoothly in a quick, fluid motion and opens another file.

“You misunderstood me,” she huffs, setting her cup down on the table. “I meant, your guns.”

“What?” he asks, confused, his voice a little high and tense. He turns his face towards her but not yet meeting her eyes.

“Guns,” she says with a smile that comes out in her voice, and leans forward and presses her fingers against his bicep and gives it a gentle squeeze.

He looks a little surprised and she notices him bite his lower lip for a moment, clearly embarrassed.

It _is_ late and she’s getting a little punchy from staring at legal wording for hours.  He could’ve gone to bed hours ago and left it to her.

Instead he insisted on helping.

“If you feel self-conscious, I understand,” she goes on, pulling out the chair next to him. “But, you shouldn’t,” she sits. “Around me.”

At that he does look at her, studies her face for a long moment, quietly.

“We’ve got a lot to do between now and the morning,” he finally says, picking up the coffee cup again.

“Thanks for the refill.”

“Sure,” she nods, getting back to the file in front of her.

She sees him push his sleeves back up out of the corner of her eye.

 

 

 #

In the morning, she wanders back into the office, not bothering to change out of the sweats she slept in and skipped the morning routine with May, since she’s been putting Jemma and Fitz through training.

They’ve manage to craft a real first draft, she’s already got it ready to be blasted across the internet by her Geek Squad when it’s done.

He’s still not there, and she imagines he slept in, maybe. Not his usual sort of thing, but they were up late-late.

She finds it makes her yawn and sets her cup down and stares over at the record player.

It’s been a long time since she’s heard it play.  And in some ways, what they're about to do feels like a big first step.

Something daring and worthy of a big sendoff.

The albums even have a little bit of dust collecting on them, she finds. Only a light touch, but it makes her reflect for a moment, a bit morosely, about everything they’ve been through.

That feeling she’s had of being stuck, and not having any connection to her own people.  Losing her mother.  And that only connection is at the Cocoon, getting ready to become a SHIELD agent.

She doesn’t want to think about that right now.  It’s been more of a distraction than a help, she realized.  They haven’t talked about what it is, even.

In the end, it’s a blues album. Jazz seems a bit much for early morning.  Setting the needle, she smiles at the sound of the horn and turns around to find Phil there.

Quiet as a mouse and looking a bit tired, but dressed and shaved and professional as ever.

“I just thought we could celebrate,” she says, lifting a finger towards the record player.  “It’s kind of a big deal, right?”

“Yeah,” he answers and pulls out a chair and sits down, staring down at the paper in front of him.

They don’t manage clutter the same way, she thinks, and watches him start to look at the file labels and sort things into neat stacks.

“Even wore my best sweats for the occasion.  SHIELD issue," she goes on, pulling on the hem of the sweatshirt.

“I guess I’m overdressed,” he says with a silly, pleased smile. 

She hums agreement with him and sits down beside him, starting to read through the draft again.

“Wants to change the world, ignores simple filing system,” he teases her, as she takes the file out of his hand and looks at the label then sets in a stack next to her.

“Have you had your coffee yet?” she asks, turning to him.  “You seem a little grumpy.”

“No, I haven’t,” he confesses, his mouth turned a bit downward.

“Then maybe,” she starts, yanking the file out of his hand. “I can finish this, and you can go get your coffee?”

She can tell he knows it’s an order by the way he smirks a little, like he’d like to be more stubborn about it, but pushes back his chair and stands.

For whatever reason, she finds herself turning over the back of her chair to watch him leave.

Gratitude, perhaps.

 

#

Of course it sparks another fight.  _Of course_.

She doesn’t speak for all Inhumans? Oh, _really_?!

She’s Inhuman.  She’s speaking for _herself_.

Just because he thinks they’re monsters, that it’s not a gift, shouldn’t keep him from seeing the bigger picture here.

It's so tiring feeling like she’s one-half of something. 

People have tried to erase her for her entire life.  He doesn’t know what that’s like.  He wants to hide, like that will keep them safe.

He should know better.  It didn’t work before when her mother tried to shut out the rest of the world.  When Lash found him, it wasn't humans hunting him, it was another Inhuman.

And _he_ doesn’t speak for all of them, either.  Joey and Elena want to use their gifts.  People like Phil and May and Mack aren’t afraid of them.

Heading down the hallway, not really sure where she is headed, just that it’s away, as far away as she can possibly get tonight.

She’s not going back this time. Not afraid to let it fall apart like she was when it began.

When she turns the corner, she runs into a body.

“Oh, sorry, _sorry_ ,” she says, pleading, reaching out her hand to steady the other person, her usual ability to sense vibrations is just as aggravated as her emotions right now or she might’ve seen it coming.

“Daisy, it’s fine.”

The sound of his voice practically washes over her, it makes her feel so calm and safe, she almost wants to cry or hug him, or both.

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly, ducking his head to try to get a better read on her.

“It’s just,” she starts, looking up at his eyes, the concern in them.  For her, not anything else, she knows it instantly. “I don’t think I’m cut out for politics.”

She can tell just by the way he blinks that he knows she’s withholding the real reason, but he just sighs.

“You’re doing the right thing, for the right reasons.  It’ll take people time to come around.”

“But my _own_ people?” she asks, before she can second-guess herself, and finds herself tearing up anyway. “Should I have to wait for them to come around, too?”

“We'll keep moving forward, get out in front of it when we can.”

“Yes,” she thinks at his “we”, remembering, and turns her head to the side. Thinking about how this all began with her and her mother.  “Because it started with me,” she says aloud.

“No it didn’t,” he tells her, putting his fingers along her arm.  “It started with the Kree. But it’s going to change because of you. For the better.”

“How can you-“ she starts to ask.  “You’re not even Inhuman.  You’re risking _so_ much.”

“I think we both know the answer to that,” he answers, dropping his hand away in a moment, hiding his eyes from her the next.

“Because it’s the right thing to do,” she tells him, shrugging her shoulders, trying not to sound like a pessimist.

“Yes,” he answers, an amused look on his face, as he rests his hands on his hips. “With you.”

Like it should be a given.

“Do you mean that?” she asks directly, carefully.

“Yes,” he says, meeting her gaze and holding it, his chest rising and falling, and suddenly her powers register the charge-filled space between them.

They both know what they’re doing here.

“You’d better, Phil,” she says, demanding.

She pushes him up against the wall and kisses him, hard, tangling her hand in the front of his shirt.

It only takes him a moment to kiss back.


End file.
